


the whole rose garden, for you

by galforce (boxofwonder)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: And Dorothea as a proud moronsexual, Dash of angst for taste, F/F, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Fluff, Humour, Post-War, Starring Byleth as the Ultimate Himbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofwonder/pseuds/galforce
Summary: Now that peace has come, Byleth is ready to make good on a promise made a long time ago.However, peace brings with it some wicked foes - the most powerful among them: the need to find the right words.
Relationships: Dorothea/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 7
Kudos: 98





	the whole rose garden, for you

**Author's Note:**

> Written for bylethea week! <3

With the rising dawn of a new day, Byleth knew it was time. 

Though, more precisely, the decision actually hit her at noon, after she went about her day listening to the Emperor and her ‘jewels’ bickering while thinking about food in the mess hall, hoping for something spicy again. Spicy food made Byleth’s eyes burn, she loved it. And it made Petra laugh. So what was there not to enjoy? 

And it hit her, really, that she could afford to spend a meeting like this dreaming of food, for the topics discussed were so petty and out of her reach. Nobles trying to sidle up to the Emperor in her new order in hopes to retain their titles, little disputes, the colour for a new school being built, and so on. The issues of peace, which Byleth was not a particularly good advisor on. 

Frankly, she was somewhat clueless what to do about peace after such a long time of war, where the skillset she had honed best was needed. These days, when the guests came and went, she could not even strap the sword of the creator to her belt because apparently it ‘made people uncomfortable’. Peace had reached a point where the comfort of visitors held more weight than being ready for an attack. 

It was a strange new time in which Byleth struggled to find her purpose, and as she wondered if she could tempt Dorothea to join her in the mess hall, she realised with full weight what this meant. The true meaning of it. 

She stood abruptly, interrupting Edelgard and Ferdinand in a heated discussion that sounded suspiciously like they were subtly gossiping about Hubert to his face. 

“What is the matter, my teacher?” Edelgard asked, somewhat perplexed, but her voice still warm. 

“I must go,” Byleth said. 

“Is it an emergency? Are you in need of assistance?” 

Byleth shook her head. It was an emergency only to herself, and assistance was not needed. “I must repay a debt long promised.”

“You what,” Hubert said flatly, obviously not satisfied with the explanation, but Edelgard nodded in understanding. “Please do so, and if you need any assistance whatsoever, do not hesitate to reach out. Will you come by for tea later?”

Byleth nodded, giving her a small smile. She inclined her head to Hubert and Ferdinand, and then briskly turned and left. 

Her frantic momentum was somewhat slowed by the size of the monastery. 

After she was unable to find Dorothea in her room, nor the general grounds around it, the search began. In the end, she asked around, and chased rumours of sightings of the woman she sought until at last, a speck of red greeted her on the bridge towards the church, now seemingly obsolete.

It was astonishing to Byleth how many boldly redefined their faith in the wake of old systems crashing down, extracting it from corruption, guarding it like a flame in need of a new vessel to protect it from the harsh winds. 

Dorothea looked up at her approach without Byleth ever having made a sound, and her smile was warm, lit up her eyes. “My, who has the wind blown my way?” she called playfully. The bags under her eyes were less pronounced today - Byleth was much aware of her nightly terrors, no matter how much Dorothea wished to hide them. But peace was salve on a festering, aching wound that hopefully would heal. Slowly, but steadily. At least she seemed to have gotten a full night of rest, and it put Byleth at ease. 

“It is me,” she deadpanned, making Dorothea laugh. 

“Well, I can see that! Headed to the church?”

Byleth shook her head. “Headed to you.” 

“Oh?” Dorothea touched her hand to her chest. “What gives me the honour? Please do not saddle me with another task … you know I love to help out, but my arms still ache from clearing rubble all morning!” 

Byleth shook her head again, trying to reach for her words. It would take a lot, and she did not want to waste any. It was easier these days, but she would never understand the likes of Ferdinand or Caspar, who seemed an endless well of effortless words. “No. I am here because I owe you. And I am ready now.”

Dorothea blinked, once, twice. “While I love the intriguing sound of these mysterious words, I do not understand?” 

Byleth felt the weight of the diary in her coat’s pocket. All these years it had survived - though most of the ink was runny, it was still ink written by a father she missed dearly, every day. “To care for you forever,” Byleth said. The war was won. She was ready. “I will do so, from now on.”

Dorothea put a hand before her mouth to stifle laughter. Not exactly the reaction Byleth had hoped for. “What are you saying? And with such a serious expression, too! Then again, that is just your face, I guess …” Dorothea sighed deeply. “It is true that I haven’t found … what I was looking for yet, but there is no need to indulge me out of pity.”

Pity? She must have misunderstood quite severely. “You asked me to care for you until your old days,” Byleth reminded her. The wartime had been rather perilous … perhaps Dorothea had lost her grasp on some memories, but that was alright. Byleth knew a thing or two about that. 

“That does not change what I am saying at all,” Dorothea shot back, a smidge of frustration in her voice. 

“You said you have not found anyone else.”

“Must you rub it in? No, I have not! Perhaps I had better things to do than to date soldiers that could die any day, trying to seek someone else to care for beyond my friends who I could lose any second …” She hugged herself tightly, and it made Byleth want to hug her even more tightly. 

So she did. 

She wrapped her arms around Dorothea and squeezed tight. “But we are here,” Byleth said against her collarbone, because there was nothing else to say. They were the lucky ones, and that was the fact of life. “And you deserve that love. I will not die in any battle. So I want to care for you. Until the day you leave first.” Byleth had resolved that. If the war would not kill her, she would live longer than any of her friends. That way, nobody would ever have to mourn her. 

“B-byleth,” Dorothea breathed. “You …”

“I have a ring.”

“Byleth!” This time Dorothea pulled away to look at her. “Wait, are you being serious? Do you even realise what this entails? I do not want to wed a close friend, you know? Else I would have long done so! I want a lover, I want someone to desire me as well, and to raise a family with.”

Did Dorothea honestly consider Byleth had not taken that into account?

She just nodded.

Dorothea gaped at her. “No!” She pointed an accusing finger at her. “You cannot just show up, propose to me, and then nod and give me that blank expression! Explain yourself!”

Byleth had done so multiple times now. Perhaps a more practical demonstration was in order, so she pulled out her father’s diary and carefully ifted out the leather cord he had tied the ring to. 

Byleth tucked the book back into her pocket with care and lifted the ring towards Dorothea. “My father wanted me to give it to someone special.” She twisted it between her fingers, brushing its stone wistfully. “Someone who made me feel as happy as my mother made him. I wish …” She wished he was here to see. He would approve of Dorothea, smile at her warmly. Almost Byleth could feel that smile, knowing him close despite the staggering sharpness of her grief. “He would smile,” she said, and the ache she felt was sweet. 

Dorothea had stared at the ring the entire time Byleth talked. But at that, she burst into tears. Byleth was alarmed. 

“You haven’t even courted me!” Dorothea cried, sniffling. “All this time I was so sure all my love for you was unrequited, and I tried to distract myself from you but my heart was so stubborn, and you’re telling me you want to be my wife? You just come right up and propose to me?! You say all these things, and, and - !” 

Byleth bit her lips. She pulled back the leather cord holding the ring, worn smooth from her father touching and braiding it, and pressed it to her chest. “I couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t leave. I will court you now, if you wish ...”

Byleth did not know what it entailed. She would have to ask Edelgard. Ferdinand talked a lot about being courted by a mysterious, dark stranger … 

Dorothea made a noise like a wounded beast, cutting off Byleth’s thoughts when she flung her arms around Byleth and held her tightly again. “And you mean it?” she asked, her body trembling. 

Byleth wound the arm not squeezed between their bodies around Dorothea to hold her steady. “I have been waiting. I am sorry you hurt and I did not know.”

“Oh, you! You are just a terrible woman!” Dorothea accused, but the words felt soft, breathed against her neck. “Of course I forgive you … I love you. I have loved you for a while. But you’d better make up for playing with my heart like this, you hear me? You better love me so thoroughly that I never forget … not ever …”

That was the plan. Nobody else was suited for it, because Byleth could not trust them to take it seriously. To see beyond Dorothea’s etheral beauty, see her soul and her strength, see her weaknesses and be willing to protect them at all costs. Nobody would be able to see her flaws and love her more for it, see her strengths and not be struck breathless and intimidated. No, Byleth would do it herself, so she would know for certain Dorothea would be well-loved, well cared for. 

Someone had to make her the happiest woman alive, and Byleth knew this was what she was supposed to do. Now that the battlefield did not require her tactics and skills, she would dedicate herself to being a wife to strike fear in her ene- hmm, no. Perhaps not the right way to put it.

But she would advise many a tactic - flowers finding the right locations, food eaten at nice spots, strategically mapping every touch that made Dorothea smile or gasp. 

Byleth would do all of this, for all their lives. Of course she would. 

So she smiled, squeezed Dorothea tighter, and said: “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> dorothea : youd better treat me right you hear  
> byleth: (intensely romantic inner monologue)  
> byleth: (wedding vow level of dedication)  
> byleth, aloud: ya
> 
> Poor Dorothea, but Byleth will prove her love every day of their lives. She won't bring Dorothea roses, she'll plant her a garden. She'll learn how to build a house for them with her own two hands so they can live sheltered by the promise she made, and they'll both learn to speak each other's love language and be happy 'til they're old and gray. 
> 
> ((Also, Ferdie keeps saying a mysterious dark figure courts him and literally Everyone knows it's Hubert, every single person in the palace knows, except Byleth. Cause she's a moron and I just think that's really sexy of her.))


End file.
